


the first times

by tender_sushijima



Series: sakuatsu [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Debate Club, First Dates, First Time, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29430447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_sushijima/pseuds/tender_sushijima
Summary: It's a hot day. Sakusa is alone with nothing to do, and so is Miya. They plan a date together to be alone together with some things to do.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: sakuatsu [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161872
Kudos: 23
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	the first times

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I wrote this on a whim while I was melting from the heat of my room as the day reached its hottest time, so yeah. I've never written anything this short and quick and sweet before, it's genuinely addictive. I hope you like it.

It’s a hot day. Midday. Midafternoon? Sakusa doesn’t know. He’s been lying on the floor since who knows how long and he’s still warm to the touch. The fan is sitting in front of him, blasting humid air at the lowest speed while he curls into himself even more. He remembers Komori telling him that he shouldn’t face a fan directly or else it’ll flatten his face like a pancake. While it did mortify him, he’s more concerned about the fact that he’s sweating despite only moving an inch every five minutes. His mother’s reminder about getting sick from having the fan face him rings ominously in his head, but he doesn’t care. Sakusa’s hot and the sunlight burning through his naked windows is going to roast him alive.

After what feels like maybe five minutes, he reaches for his phone across the floor. 14 percent charged. “Damn,” he says under his breath and slides it away. It hasn’t been long since the movie ended and he plugged his phone to charge, but it’s at least half an hour since the credits rolled in and the battery icon turned red.

It was an okay movie. For a first movie whose premise was such a big hit, it’s not surprising that a concluding story was demanded. Sakusa’s read articles and blog posts about the trilogy since he stumbled upon it by chance last year, and he knew the third movie (and book) was only made because people wanted an ending. Not like the second movie’s ending wasn’t satisfactory (though he begs to differ because he _hates_ the ending—the lead female character had chosen the wrong guy whom she sort of matches with, and besides, she doesn’t deserve the right guy; he’s way too good for her) but people just want a happy ending in general. That’s what happens most of the time to romantic movies. And books. Sakusa would know—he spends about a quarter of his spare time consuming romcom content to make up for his lack thereof.

It’s too hot in his room, but he doesn’t want to do anything about it. He doesn’t want to get out and maybe stand on the balcony, or better yet, take a walk outside to stretch his shrimp of a figure. He _refuses_ to leave the walls of his homely abode even if it meant rejuvenating himself and getting some fresh air. If it’s this hot inside, with the fan about to smooth out his face to a pancake, he could only imagine what’ll happen the moment he steps foot out the front door. Instant toast. Sakusa’s not taking that chance. He’s going to stay where the heart has its roots, and his heart is currently taking ages to recharge itself to a 100 percent.

Huffing, he rolls onto his back and straightens out his limbs, spread-eagled. It’s a good thing he’d cleared out most of the space on this side of the room, because while he likes having a bed, he much prefers having more floor space. Maybe he should go out and buy a new futon. He can’t remember the last time he’d hung it up to be sunbaked and, frankly, he’s convinced there are bed bugs living in them now. The yellowed patches are concerning, but Sakusa’s more annoyed at the fact that he’s rudely jolted awake every now and then at ass o’clock in the dark clawing blindly at his arms and legs.

For him to have fallen so far off his sanitary and hygienic status is such a disgrace and he knows he’s got to do something about it before Komori could detect it with his stupid petty cousin senses and use it to poke fun at him. “Damn you, Mori,” Sakusa spits out weakly, then sighs. Such a disgrace indeed.

His phone buzzes and he’s snapping back into reality. He quickly grabs it to check who it could be and almost chucks it away at the name. _Stupid Miya_. He’d texted _hey omix2 what ya doin_ like the uncouth barbarian that he is.

 _Nothing you should know about,_ Sakusa types back with visible distress, which deepens the creases on his forehead when he sees the typing bubble appear right after he hit sent.

_ayy u ain’t doin nothin amirite haha XD u got back to me real fast tho_

Miya’s annoying for an alarming number of reasons, but the one that Sakusa personally holds a grudge against him for most of the time is the sharp eye he has for observations. He hates to say it, but Miya’s not the best debater in the club for no reason. He doesn’t look nor act like it, but he could annihilate his competition without lifting a finger. Sakusa knows this because he had to argue against him during their first day as official members. The humiliation had stuck stubbornly in his memories, slowly losing its effects but not waning in intensity.

If he is to delay his response, it would only prompt Miya to send another message where he would boast of his superiority in detecting Sakusa’s idleness, but if he shoots it off immediately, it would boost Miya’s ego and reaffirm his hypothesis of Sakusa’s idleness. Either way, it’s a moot point. Miya’s already ended him during their first cordial meeting slash first debate; this is nothing in comparison.

_What’s it to you if I’m doing nothing? Also, that’s a double negative._

_man dont sweat the deets_

_yo, leggo somewhere_

_Go where?_

_idk somewhere_

_i wanna leave my room_

_Then leave your room._

_but i dont wanna be alone_

_Too bad. I’m not your mom._

_but ur my fren and frens go out together_

That seems to stop Sakusa, which should and shouldn’t for two reasons. One: he hasn’t really considered Miya close enough to be a friend, though he’s also not quite distant enough to be brushed off as an acquaintance. Two: are he and Miya really friends?

Sakusa’s circle is small and limited to his cousin—okay, his circle consists of only Komori—but he could tell Miya’s is large and expansive. He’s probably friends with the entire campus populace, with that face and aura. So there’s really no reason for him to hang around someone he meets twice a week for two hours of scholarly arguing, aka Sakusa, and yet, there he is, texting Sakusa to ask to hang out. Is that how friendships start? Asking to hang out on a hot Sunday evening out of the blue?

Before he could think of an appropriate rejection, his phone rings and he drops it facedown from shock. “Stupid Miya,” he grunts, relieved to find no cracks, but disgruntled because he has to accept this call even though he doesn’t want to. Past experiences have taught him to never ignore Miya on the phone, no matter if it’s because of low battery or pure forgetfulness. “What do you want?”

“C’mon, let’s go somewhere, Omi. I’m bored and tired and sad and I don’t wanna be alone.”

“I’m not your babysitter or counselor. Don’t you have your brother for that?”

“Yah, but he’s gonna laugh at me and tell me to grow up. Then I’m gonna have to haul ass over to his place to beat him up and then we’re gonna end up fighting—”

“Okay, spare me the sob story.” Sakusa sighs, pushing himself to sit up. “What do you have in mind?”

“Mm, I’m hungry.”

“… I’m ending this call.”

“NO. I’m serious! I’m hungry.” A pause, then, he speaks hesitantly in a slurred murmur, “I mean, I did eat lunch just now, but it’s lunch, and it’s been three hours since then and I’m getting hungry. It’s also such a hot day today that maybe I get hungry faster. Yeah, that should be why I’m hungry again. I’m hungry!”

Sakusa can’t believe he’s being invited to go out to eat something in the blistering heat just because someone refuses to find food on his own. No, that’s hypocritical of him, but not quite. Sakusa’s not the one bothering other people to accompany him to get fresh air and he’s choosing to not get fresh air because he doesn’t want to. His decision to leave his room doesn’t hinge on whether or not he has a companion, unlike Miya. He’s not like Miya, but… he does like Miya. As much as the guy gets on his nerves for being an absolute overdramatic cocky dude, Sakusa doesn’t want them to remain as stranger members of the debate club. It’s in the way he’d saved Miya’s number with his name after they reached a truce in their first debate. Sakusa never saves new contacts after meeting them for the first time, with the exception of classmates and lecturers, and which means that he does regard Miya as someone memorable enough to be identifiable in his list of contacts. Memorable enough to not be just another string of numbers in his, but to be _Miya Atsumu_.

But is he memorable enough for Sakusa to get up, get dressed, and get out to meet him? Is he?

The better part of Sakusa, the logical, rational and sensible side of his head, is trying to make sense of the invitation, but its reaction time is too slow. The spontaneous part of Sakusa got to his mouth first. “Is it ice cream that you want to eat? It doesn’t have to be ice cream, but something cold and sweet?” he asks, and he’s already browsing through his mental collection of desserts shops within walking distance of the campus. “I don’t know what you like, Miya. What do you like, specifically?”

“You know that I like sweet stuff and that’s enough,” Miya replies. “I was thinking of shaved ice. Shaved milk ice? The one with the sweet snow mountain thing and the fruits and the syrup. You know what I’m saying?”

“Yes, I know what you’re saying. Kakigori.”

“Yeah, no, that’s not what it’s called. There’s another name for it.”

“What, ‘shaved ice’?”

“No, you genius. It’s kakigori but in Korean.”

“… bingsu?”

“YAH, that’s it. That’s the one. I wanna eat that one. You know the shop nearby, right?”

Sakusa deadpans. “That’s still kakigori, _genius_. Yes, I know the shop.”

“Okay, great! It’s a date, then.”

“Wait a minute, I didn’t agree to it.”

There’s a momentary silence on the other line, and then a soft, “You’d implied the agreement.”

“No. Don’t pull the linguistic trick on me.”

“Oh, c’mon, let’s go out and have bingsu! It’s on me!”

The prospect of a cold sweet treat to end this sweltering hot day without ever spending a cent is enticing, but with Miya? “My phone’s charging. I’m not plugging it off,” Sakusa says with a tone of finality, but he’s fighting a losing battle. He’s only stalling now because he knows he wants to be treated to free bingsu and he knows that Miya knows it too.

“Well then, leave it in your room to charge! We’re not gonna need a phone to eat bingsu, are we?”

“What if there’s an emergency?”

“Okay, _fine._ I’ll take my phone with me.” Miya falls silent in anticipation, but Sakusa’s lost in his thoughts. “Omi?”

 _Is Miya memorable enough?_ Sakusa worries his lower lip. Friends do this, right?

“You don’t have to come with me if you really don’t wanna. I was just asking.”

He did ask Sakusa to eat together. Of all the people he could possibly ask, he chose Sakusa, a practical stranger whose only similarity with him is the fact that they’re both in the debate club. That means Miya thinks he’s also memorable enough to want to go out with him and have bingsu, right?

“I’ll understand if you don’t wanna go with me, cause you’re a private person and all, but I just thought you’d be alone too. We can be alone together. But if that’s not what you want…”

“Is it just bingsu?”

Sakusa’s ears are in proverbial flames by the time Miya says something, voice audibly cracking not from the bad reception, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Are you asking me out to only have bingsu? Or is there a rough itinerary in your mind?”

“Oh. Ohhh, that’s what you meant. Yah, there’s something I have in mind, kinda, but I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far.”

“What?”

“I was hoping you’d think of the rest. It’s a date, right? So we should both have equal parts in pitching what happens.”

 _Oh_. “Oh. Okay.”

“… ‘okay’? Is that a yes?”

“Just a disclaimer, but I’m not good at thinking of things to do.”

“Yeah, I thought so. You don’t do anything.”

“I take it back. I’m not going.”

“Sorrysorrysorry it was a joke.” Miya chuckles. “I’m serious, though. I’ll leave the rest of the date for you to think of. I’m starting it with eating bingsu, the rest of it we can improvise along the way, but you’ll have to think of the ending.”

Ending, huh? Funny, Sakusa was just been thinking of how romantic movies and books always lead to a happy ending where neither party are viciously hurt, which is both good and bad because things _are_ indeed better when they’re happier but that risks being unrealistic. This, though? This is just a date, a simple bingsu date to fend off the hot day and maybe develop another friendship outside of familial ties, not a complicated three-part story of a romcom with a love triangle. There’s no start or end, at least not yet, so Sakusa shouldn’t be racking his brain this hard in order to reply to Miya.

“I can’t think of any ending, but I’ll think of one. We’re obviously not coming home together,” Sakusa says after a while. It hits him belatedly how suggestive the second statement had sounded and his head feels light. “I don’t mean it like that! I meant to say that we’re obviously going to part ways at the end.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Miya simply says, but Sakusa could hear the smile in his tone. “Okay, since you’re not gonna have your phone with you, I’ll meet you at your building. I’ll text you when I get there. Cool beans?”

Sakusa frowns at the expression, which is short-lived because a smile betrays him. “Cool.”

“ _Beans_ , Omi. Don’t forget the best part of the bingsu. The beans.”

“I hate beans.”

“Great, more for me. This is already sounding like a good date to me.”

“Don’t push your luck. I’m the one who gets to choose how it ends.”

“Okay, Omi.”

When the call ends with a premature beep, Sakusa stares at his phone in disbelief. The audacity of Miya to hang up not a breath after saying his piece and leaving Sakusa with his unsaid salutations. That indignant feeling doesn’t stay for too long, however, because Sakusa’s jumping to his feet and scrambling to his closet, piecing together articles of clothing that spells _effortlessly comfy_. It’s still hot out, but the sunlight is more orange and its rays are more horizontal; it’s almost dusk.

He ends up putting on a loose tee and a pair of sweatpants, figuring the night won’t be cool enough for him to not break out sweats, but also because he knows Miya would wear the same thing. They’ve been in the debate club for almost a month now and they practically look like they’re more related than he is to Komori. Also, damn Komori. He doesn’t get to look like a mushroom had a child with a cute turtle mascot while being the ‘best dressed’ freshman of the year. It’s just not fair.

But what’s fair and nice is that Miya is giving him the power to choose how to end their date. Meeting. Hangout. Whatever it’s supposed to be. Miya’s extremely experimental with his linguistic choices, that twerp. Since he started it with his desire to have bingsu, Sakusa will end it with something of his choice. Something that’ll feel like both their first time together, since Miya’s apparently never eaten bingsu before.

“Seriously?” Sakusa squints at him. “You’ve never had it?”

“No, that’s why I asked you to take me there. I know you like them.”

“I do.” And which perplexes Sakusa because that strengthens Miya’s invitation with more intention. Miya didn’t just decide based on a dart throw whom to call up and hang out with; he wanted to ask out Sakusa specifically. “I’m surprised you knew that.”

 _“I’m_ surprised you knew I like sweet stuff, so we’re even.”

Sakusa has to tear his eyes away from the spoon clamped between Miya’s pink lips, pinker than usual because of the strawberry syrup, while his own cheeks pink. “Tell me something you do that I don’t,” he asks.

“What do you mean?” Miya lifts a brow questioningly.

“We started this date with eating bingsu, which you’ve never had before, so let’s end it with something you’re familiar with but I’m not. Even it out.”

A slow smile spreads on Miya’s face, higher on the right side. He’s smirking, and so handsomely too. “Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

“No, but that’s why I’m asking you.”

Sakusa’s heart thumps at the sound of Miya’s laughter. “Oh, you’re in for a ride, Omi. You’ll hate my answer.”

“It’s up to me if we end up doing it or not.”

“Well, it’s basketball. I play basketball in my free time, which I’m ninety-nine percent sure you don’t.”

“… You’re right, I don’t.”

They end up playing basketball anyway, because though Sakusa’s a couch potato, he can be athletic when he wants to. After all, he was awarded ‘best runner’ in middle school, which is something to consider, even if Miya thinks otherwise.

The public basketball court is empty when they get there, and of course Miya obliterates him. He’s not even in the usual bent-at-the-knees-with-arms-wide-open stance that basketball players have going on when they’re guarding their opponent; he’s standing up straight like a tree whose branch for an arm keeps sprouting out to slap away the basketball before Sakusa could make a shot. It’s another thing to add to the list of things Miya does that annoy him, though he’s mostly to be blamed for it.

“How was it?” Miya asks once they’re more or less well rested enough to walk home without the buzz of adrenaline in their veins. “The date. How would you rate it?”

Sakusa pretends to mull over it. “Three point five out of ten.”

 _“Three point five?_ This is a ‘three point five’ to you? Guess you’ve never been on a lot of dates. This is at least a solid seven.”

“That’s because I haven’t been on a lot of dates. This is my first one,” Sakusa admits with a nervous swallow. He has to fixate his line of sight on the pavement to avoid Miya’s eyes burning into his side. “Don’t make it awkward now. Say something!”

“No, I mean. It’s also my first date too.”

“… Oh.”

“Yah. _Oh.”_

It’s quiet between and around them as they make it back the remaining distance to the campus. They don’t say anything as they close in on the dormitory building closest to the gate, which is Sakusa’s, until they’re at the base of the staircase and Miya asks if he’d like to go on more dates with him.

Sakusa blinks at him. “What?”

“You said you’ve never been on dates before and you don’t do anything when you’re alone. Not that it’s a bad thing, but I’m kinda the same too. I don’t like doing nothing and being alone, which I happen to do simultaneously a lot.” Miya rubs his nape, his eyes landing everywhere but at Sakusa. “And I’m kinda offended that you gave me a three point five.”

“So you’re just a sore loser?”

“Says the one who won’t give up until he got one shot in the net.”

Sakusa purses his lips, nodding to admit defeat. “Touché. Okay, we can have more dates.”

Miya’s eyes seem to glow in the dark as they lock onto Sakusa’s. “Really?”

“Yeah. It was… fun. We both had our first times together.”

“Omi, are you secretly kinky or something?” Miya grins cheekily.

“Bye.”

 _“Omi!"_ A groan, and then, "Thanks for accompanying me to eat bingsu for the first time!”

Sakusa waves a hand over his shoulder, not bothered to turn around because he’s socially and physically drained and he’d like to hop in the shower asap, but mostly because he’s smiling and he doesn’t want to give Miya the satisfaction of knowing that he’s the reason for it. “Goodnight, Miya,” he says.

“I’ll text you when I get back!”

 _r u free after debate tmr?_ is what Miya texted, which Sakusa sees after he got out of the shower. He hates to say it, more so think of it, but the message sets his heart off drumming. He has to take a moment to let the day’s events sink in, then another to register the thought of a second date happening, and a third to compose himself and recollect his communication abilities before typing out an answer.

_Yeah, I am._

_Thanks for playing basketball with me for the first time._

**Author's Note:**

> SAKUATSU SUPREMACY. I do have twitter but I'm mostly more active on [insta](https://www.instagram.com/tender_sushijima/)


End file.
